she is passion embodied, a flower of melodrama in eternal bloom
-- ☼ --
W
andering was in her blood, written upon her soul, and though she had found a home now the urge to explore every inch of it would likely never desist. She was still learning her way around, venturing into the forest and pausing at the river until she could remember how to navigate anywhere from her location, at least in the vaguest notion. She had gone back to the meadow, though. She always found herself returning to the vast field and grasslands, her heart drawn by the wide open space and endless sky overhead. Not a tree in sight and nothing but rolling hill slopes of flowers for miles, speckled like a mosaic against the land. It was freedom and she felt like she could burst every time it came back into view. The varying artwork of her new homelands brought her much joy, and for once in her life the need to move on and see something new had faded. She felt like she could be content here and the feeling was so new she hadn't fully figured out what to do with it yet.
Walking out across the tall grasses, flowers brushing against the sides of her legs in a soft tickling as the breeze swept them to and fro, Lisseut was at peace. Well, mostly. She wondered of the others in her new home, still yet unfamiliar with most of the Court. She usually had no trouble making friends, but for whatever reason a sense of shyness had overtaken her since her arrival. Perhaps, it was the knowing that she would be around on a more longterm basis, the impressions she made consequently holding more weight than that of a casual passerby whom would never be seen again, or at least not for a long while. Here, what others thought of her actually mattered. She needed to fit in, to find a place in the community and earn their trust and loyalty. All the flowers in the world couldn't make up for a lack of friends and meaning in life, she thought softly to herself. It was not an easy admission, but she knew it to be true.
'But, it is very lovely...' She thought, pausing and dipping her nose down to smell the fragrances. The sunshine warmed her back and she closed her eyes momentarily, pushing all the doubt aside in favor of relaxing. She belonged here. She felt it in her bones. She would find her way, and those to whom her soul could dance alongside. Opening her eyes with a newfound conviction, she took a deep breath and continued forward. She knew her legs were taking her towards the Dawn Court, out of the wilds and into the gathering of the community. She hoped she would meet others along the way, but didn't worry herself over it. Subconsciously, she began humming as she moved, a song lilting on the edge of her lips as if trying to slip out. She let the lyrics fly loose and her expression lightened, softened, "I know love, little one; love is like a flower." She looked at peace once again, felt the land thrumming through her blood and easing her along. Someday, she would be able to give that comfort and love back to the land...someday. "Oh, why is love a flower little one? Love is a flower for the sweetness it gives before it dies."
There was blood on his chest. Dripping down his legs, staining his muscles, soaking him through to the bone. Rivers of red bled through his pristine coat, rust taking over the white.
He’d washed it off in the river, when he had finally left Solterra. But blood never really did come clean—it clung to him, long after the last droplets had been wiped away. His coat shone in the sunlight, bright and white and clean, but his soul remained far more tarnished. Even when this time he had only been helping to clean up the blood of others; he hadn’t had to shed his own in a while now. But blood was a funny thing, like oil: it didn’t matter if it was your’s or others, by your hoof or a sword or if you were simply an observer to the chaos.
It stained everything indiscriminately. His body was clean now, washed with the water; his conscience, not so much.
The sand beneath his hooves turned to grass, rolling hills of green that stretched as far as the eye could see. Aion hadn’t seen a sky so blue or vibrant in what felt like years: it was a welcome sight. The skies in the Day Court had been blue, in their own way: but it was a dry blue, a pale blue. And more often than not, the horizons were yellow with dust or smoke.
He was still making his way through the wild grasses and flowers when he first heard the song.
It rose up in the air around him, faint and lilting in the wind. His ears pricked forward, pausing in his step to better listen.
”I know love, little one; love is like a flower.”
His heart stung in his chest. The simile was sappy and romantic, and it sounded like something his partner might have said, further reminding him that he was alone.
Without stopping to question himself or his actions, Aion followed the sound of the woman’s voice. It didn’t take long for him to find the source, rounding a hill to see the speckled pegasus wandering just as aimlessly as he through the flowers.
"Oh, why is love a flower little one? Love is a flower for the sweetness it gives before it dies."
He hesitated for only a moment before he stepped forward once more, angling so as to interject her own path.
“Some might say love never dies,” he said softly, unsure if she would even hear him. His heart constricted painfully once more. “From that perspective, it’s not like flowers at all.”
@lisseut hope you don't mind me throwing him in here! ;u;
"talk." text.
she is passion embodied, a flower of melodrama in eternal bloom
-- ☼ --
A
s if from thin air, a figure appeared before her, causing Lisseut to pull up and take a step back, half surprised. Her ears flicked back and forth as the interloper spoke, halting her song mid lyric. "Oh!" She elicited demurely, but managed to catch his words and process them all the same. She blinked, trying to remember what she had been singing about; sometimes songs fell from her lips and she did not even realize which ones they were. The lyrics would bubble up inside her and simply come out, whether she was thinking about it or not. "The love that never dies could be a flower all the same, for do they not return each year to bloom anew? That does not sound like a sad, or permanent, death to me."
Once she had spoken, she cast her eyes over him and took in his appearance. He was such a pristine shade of white, like winter snow on a sunny day, that she almost had to close her eyes. The feathers sprouting between his eyes and growing up towards his ears and neck intrigued her as they gently rustled in the breeze. He looked exotic, mystical, altogether something new to her. And yet, something about him looked tired...the expression of someone nearing the end of a journey. Her brows furrowed and she frowned. "Are...are you alright?" There was a faint scent of iron that briefly touched her nostrils, as if an echo lingering in the air from thunder the night before. Slightly baffled, she cast a concerned expression up at the male. It was probably nothing; he did not appear to be hurt and the forest carried many scents wihtin. It was almost certainly just a smell the wind had caught and managed to carry across the fields.
She was not one to be overly suspicious of others, her need to ease tension and offer warmth was much more overwhelming than that of ensuring her own personal safety. A low sense of self-preservation, some might call it. Benevolence was more akin to her definition. She sidled sideways so that he wasn't smack dab in front of her anymore, and tilted her head forward in a gesture. "I was heading to the Dawn Court..." He could be anyone - she did not even know if he belonged to the same family as her. Most would shy away from a stranger, especially as new and unknown as she was to the area, but she was not most. She would rather make the attempt to gain a traveling companion for the afternoon. So, she smiled. "If you are heading the same way and you like, you're free to come with me." She took a couple of steps forward, pausing as an amusing thought crossed her mind, "I promise I won't keep singing about flowers."
ooc: @aion ; editing everything, hopefully this is better!
He barely registered her surprised ”Oh!”, nor the way she looked his body up and down with a frown and a furrowed brow. Aion was only present in part; the rest of him was scattered back in Solterra, among the dust and the fires of war. He can still see the bloody and wounds and ruin in his mind; every jagged edge is forever burned into his subconscious, categorized and stored away with the rest of his bad memories.
But bad memories like to resurface at bad times.
“Even a temporary death feels like death nonetheless,” his voice is little more than a whisper, a dare to challenge her beliefs. He couldn’t stop himself; arguing was in his nature, imbued into his DNA. And besides, he of all people should know best about death. Aion doubted a girl singing about flowers and love and sunshine would be well versed in heartbreak and despair.
An involuntary shudder crawls up his spine, trickling like ice back down his back. But he pushes the thoughts away; banishing the blood and the pyres and the betrayals from his mind. It’s by no small effort that he forces his attention onto the mare instead, with her striped wings and her crown of flowers and her baby blue eyes. They match the skies here in Delumine—and Aion wonders if they might match his own, too, shade for shade.
She asks if he’s alright then, and he almost laughs; the chuckle is there, creeping up his throat without asking for permission. But he catches it just in time, cuts it off with a not-so-subtle cough. His eyes fall to the ground, feigning interest in the wild and bright poppies growing like weeds there.
“No, I’m not.” How simple it would be, to just lie down in the flowers that surrounded them and forget about the rest of the world. To drown himself in their beauty without any intention of saving himself. He looks up at her then, meeting her soft gaze with his icy own. “But I will be.” Or so he hoped. He had yet to find the fabled light at the end of the tunnel, his search to be made whole again still a work in progress. But if he had done it once, chances are he would again.
“To the Dawn Court?” he echoed, his ears tilting forward in interest. He shouldn’t be surprised, but he is; he isn’t used to honesty from strangers, after all. Nearly every person he’s met was moving in the opposite direction; Aion was convinced he was doomed to spend his time here in Novus alone. But she confirms his question with a grin—and an invitation.
For the first time in a very long time, a ghost of a smile crosses his lips and ignites the frigid depths of his eyes. “I would love to. Though you can sing anything you’d like—just forgive me when I don’t join in.”
Truth be told, he could use a little more of her optimism in his life. He falls into step beside her, keeping a measurable amount of space between their two bodies. “My name is Aion. And your’s..?”
@lisseut you’re perfect <3 super sorry for the confusion!
"talk." text.
she is passion embodied, a flower of melodrama in eternal bloom
-- ☼ --
T
ere's something ancient lingering in the other being's eyes, his voice, the way he lowers his head and diverts his gaze from her. It is as if he has been in a long-winded battle of the ages and walked out on the other side a much older, very tired soul. She senses that weariness in him, pays it quiet homage as she listens to his words about death. She chooses not to argue the, to what in her opinion was a pedantic matter, feeling that this stranger probably had his reasons for saying what he did that she would not understand. She is much more enwrapped by the following shudder that overtakes his frame, feathers ruffling askew as it takes hold. Her ears swivel and she stills, watching intently, wondering if she should do something. But, it passes and he responds to her in the negative, gazing at the flowers. She hoped they gave him the same kind of comfort they often brought her.
She nodded when he added on that he would be better eventually, sidestepping away and continuing on to invite him along to the Dawn Court with her. He seemed surprised that was where she was headed, and for the first time since he appeared she felt like she had said the right thing, had offered something that felt good to him. He even smiled, a small and fleeting thing, but it seemed to lighten his features. She giggled at his comment. "Drat, finding duet partners is terribly difficult and I was hopeful." She teased, hoping it would further lift his spirits. She looked ahead and let the mood lift her slightly off her hooves, flitting forward a few steps as if dancing. She was determined for his running into her to be a good thing, for the both of them. She did not know what had brought him here, so blue and seemingly trampled upon, but she would not be more of the same. Feeling upbeat, she proclaimed "To the Dawn Court!" as she looked back to check if he was coming.
He came forward until they were ambling on side by side, offering to her his name. She tested it on her tongue. "Aion. Well, I am glad you stumbled upon me, good sir. You can call me Lisseut."The breeze picked up and she lifted her wings up momentarily, letting the wind blow through her own feathers. She closed her eyes and let the wind carry the scent of the flowers through her nose, savoring it. She relished the feeling of completeness for the second, opening her eyes again when the breeze died away and left her folding her wings back again. She turned and glanced at Aion apologetically. "Sometimes the world around me can feel so tantalizingly good, it's hard not to get lost in a moment." She looked forward again, picking up her pace slightly, as if she wanted to bolt forward and dance away. She smiled instead. "It's so beautiful here! I'm truly glad I decided to come and see for myself." She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts and calming herself. She was probably rambling, she realized. "Are you from here? Or a visitor?"
